"You've already thanked me multiple times."
"It doesn't feel like enough. You risked your life for strangers. You flew halfway around the world to liberate a bunch of women you didn't know from the evil people who did really bad things to us. I will be forever grateful to you."
Drova shrugged again, but Arezoo could see the satisfaction in her big, black eyes. "I didn't do it for you. I wanted to prove myself to my mother and to the Guardians, and because of my special ability, I was allowed to join the mission despite my age. I screwed up majorly, but I want to believe that I prevented casualties despite losing my voice amplifier and getting shot."
Arezoo appreciated the honesty, but she still thought that Drova was selling herself short. "You did your best, and without you, Iwouldn't be here, sitting on a bench in one of the safest spots on earth, enjoying a sunny day with a friend."
After a long moment of just watching the children play, Drova turned to her. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course. Anything."
"How do you like working at the café?"
That was an abrupt change of subject. "I like it a lot. Wonder and Aliya have been patient with my mistakes. And most of the customers are nice, except for?—"
A commotion at the playground cut off her words. Arman had decided to try the monkey bars and now he had fallen and was sitting on the ground, holding his knee and trying very hard not to cry.
Arezoo rushed over to him, while Drova didn't seem overly concerned and stayed on the bench.
To her, a scraped knee was nothing. A small hurt that she had probably been told to ignore and keep on training.
The Kra-ell raised Spartans.
"Let me see," Arezoo said, examining his knee. It wasn't bad, just a surface scrape, but to a six-year-old it probably felt catastrophic.
"It hurts," Arman whimpered.
"I know, brave one. But look, it's just a tiny scratch. You'll have a battle scar to show everyone."
"A battle scar?" He perked up.
"All the best warriors have them," Drova said from behind Arezoo and then crouched beside them. "This one will heal quickly, but you can tell everyone you got it fighting monsters."
"Really?"
"Absolutely," Drova said with a perfectly straight face. "I saw the whole thing. You were very brave."
Arezoo opened the pack Yasmin had prepared for the kids and wasn't surprised to find a first aid kit. The boy hissed when she cleaned the scrape, but he was trying hard to be brave in front of Drova. When she applied a Batman Band-Aid, Arman's tears dried up, replaced by excitement about the battle wound and the cool Band-Aid.
"Can I have a battle scar too?" Rohan asked hopefully.
"No," Arezoo and Drova said in unison, making them both laugh.
"Scars have to happen naturally," Drova explained. "You can't plan them."
"Good afternoon, ladies," someone said from behind them, and Arezoo's stomach tightened when she recognized the voice.
Turning around, she plastered a smile on her face. "Hello."
Ruvon seemed lost for words for a moment, but then they spilled out of him in a rush. "I was on my way to the café, I mean to the vending machines, when I saw you here. I thought I would stop to say hello and see if you would like me to get you something while I was at it."
Every instinct screamed at her to refuse. The thought of accepting anything from a former Doomer made her skin crawl.
"I—" she started to decline.
"That would be nice," Drova interjected. "Black coffee for me, nothing added. Arezoo?"
Trapped by social courtesy and Drova's acceptance, she couldn't be rude, not when Ruvon hadn't done anything wrong.
